


Michael's Plan

by randomizer



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Gen, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-14 20:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13015137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomizer/pseuds/randomizer
Summary: Eleanor is becoming more and more of a problem for Michael.  How can he fix it?





	Michael's Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cricket_aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cricket_aria/gifts).



_It’s attempt #197, and Michael is showing the neighborhood to Eleanor for the 197th time. For some reason, she’s chattier than usual._

_“So what exactly happens to people in the Bad Place?” Michael finds Eleanor’s attempts at studied nonchalance unexpectedly amusing._

_“Just your garden-variety torture.You know . . . fire, brimstone, leeches, all that sort of thing. But you don’t need to worry about that. You’re in the_ Good _Place. Think of your happiest day on Earth, and multiply that by infinity.That’s how you’re going to feel here, every single minute.” Michael watches Eleanor’s conflicted expression, pleased at the little nudges of torture he’s lobbed her way.He congratulates himself silently: yes, he’s very good at this.Suck it, Sean!_

_“Sounds kind of boring. You guys should have been able to come up with better shirt to torture people with than that. After all, it’s the twenty first-century!” Eleanor grins at Michael, and he’s shocked at how much what she’s just said echoes his entire plan, a plan for which nobody else in the Bad Place had managed to drum up any enthusiasm at all._

_“How would you torture people?” Michael knows that he shouldn’t ask, that it might lead her faster to the idea that they’re actually in the Bad Place, but his curiosity is overwhelming._

_“Well, you could, like, put them in a mall, and give them nothing but expired credit cards. Or you could wake them up every hour with robocalls from companies who want them to change their electricity plans. Or force them to update their Facebook statuses, and have NOBODY give them a single ‘like.’ Or give them a TV set that shows nothing but documentaries about frakking. Or . . .” Eleanor could clearly spin out these scenarios all day long. Michael is impressed in spite of himself._

_“I think they’re a little more . . . conservative in the Bad Place.They tend to stick to what works.” Michael sighs inwardly as he says this, knowing that it’s more true than anything that he’s told Eleanor so far._

_Eleanor snorts, and Michael shakes himself back to the business at hand. “As you can see, we have a number of places to get frozen yogurt . . .”_

 

§§§

When Michael asks Janet to call the train to take him to the Medium Place, she looks at him as quizzically as it is possible for a Janet to look. “I am required to inform you that you will have none of your usual powers in the Medium Place, because it’s an entirely neutral zone. I can’t predict what might happen to you if you travel there.” Janet says all this with a bright smile on her face, as though the unpredictability of the universe is a singular delight for her.And after all, Michael thinks, that might well be the case.

Michael nods. “I know that. But it’s the only thing I can think of right now.”

 

§§§

_It’s attempt #415, and Michael decides to have some frozen yogurt with Eleanor. He doesn’t enjoy her company, of course he doesn’t, but he wants to keep his finger on the pulse of the group, to see if everything (anything!) is going according to plan this time around._

_“So what’s going on with you, Michael? You look a little bummed these days.” Eleanor is stirring her serving of “Sunset after a Rainstorm” idly before popping a spoonful into her mouth._

_“What?” Michael looks at her sharply.Since when does Eleanor notice anyone except herself? And why would she be thinking about him at all?_

_“None of my business, of course, but for an eternal being running paradise, it’s weird that you’re walking around looking as though your favorite TV show just got cancelled.” Eleanor actually seems to want him to talk to her, and he finds himself wanting to answer._

_“It’s nothing. It’s just . . . sometimes I think I’m not very good at my job.” Michael blurts it out almost without thinking, and then realizes that it's the understatement of the millennium.He’s not just “not good”; he’s approaching “terrible.” Over four hundred resets, and Eleanor figures out what’s happening EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. Hell, even forking_ Jason _figured it out in one particularly humiliating round. He’s gotten so desperate that some of the reboots are strictly for comic relief: #218 (soulmate Tahani) and #333 (soulmate golden retriever) were standouts. But he has to admit to himself that he’s no closer to a successful system of torture for the four of them than he was the first time around, and sooner or later, Sean is going to figure out what he’s up to._

_Eleanor smiles at him, a smile that’s a lot more genuine than anything Michael would expect from her. “I think you can relax about that, dude. This is the best Good Place that I’ve ever lived in. Everything is great; it says so in big green letters when we get here.”_

_Michael laughs at that, forgetting for a second the crushing problems that get worse with every reboot.And who knows?Maybe #415 will be the charm._

 

§§§

It’s been a long time since Michael has been on a train, and he finds the clickety-clack sound of the tracks oddly soothing. He watches Janet, listens to her intermittent “choo-choo” noises, and tries to blank out his mind entirely.

He doesn’t succeed, of course. His thoughts turn to Mindy St. Claire, wondering if talking to her is a good idea. He’s never met Mindy personally, none of them have.But because the Medium Place is a neutral zone, nothing he tells Mindy can ever be known by anybody. And right now, that’s the only thing in the cosmos that Michael wants.

“Janet?” Michael calls, and he feels someone tapping him from behind.

“I’m right here. Sitting on train seats is so neat. Why don’t people do it all day long, all the time?” Janet is bouncing a little, keeping time to the rhythm of the train.

Michael ignores the question. “How much longer until we get to the Medium Place?”

“I can't answer that, because the question is dumb; there is no time here. But I’ll let you know as soon as we're there.” Janet goes back to her bouncing.

Michael closes his eyes, hoping that this whole thing won’t turn out to be a colossal mistake.

 

§§§

_It’s attempt #801, and Michael begins to get really worried. He isn’t exactly sure how it happened, but at some point between attempt #507 and attempt #518 he realizes that it has somehow become a routine: he and Eleanor head off for some frozen yogurt at least once a week._

_“Dude, you have to keep from eye-rolling so much at Chidi when you hear him talk about the categorical imperative.He takes it personally.” Eleanor is spooning some “Latest Iphone Release” into her mouth as she’s talking, so “categorical imperative” is barely recognizable._

_Michael scoffs. “I’m a superior being. It’s not easy for me to pretend that ethics means anything. Besides, it’s . . .”_

_“Boring?Hard? Scary? Weird?” Eleanor interrupts.He had been about to say “pointless,” but Eleanor might be closer to what he actually feels._

_Michael decides a shift might be his best defense here. “Chidi is used to students who don’t pay attention to him. You should have seen him on Earth.”_

_“Maybe, but some of it’s actually not so bad.” Michael looks at Eleanor curiously. She really_ has _changed since attempt #1. That’s not supposed to be possible. Learning and growing are things that happen in life, not after death. Once you die, you are what you are, and you’re rewarded or punished accordingly. What_ was _this?_

_Eleanor is continuing, unaware of Michael’s growing bafflement. “He’s pretty great, for a nerd. I mean, those glasses are ridiculous, and he worries about everything—he even worries about worrying. But it’s good to think about stuff once in awhile. I never used to do that at all.” Eleanor takes another spoonful of “Latest Iphone Release,” clearly enjoying it._

_Michael sighs. He doesn’t see where the torture is going to come from this time around; the group seems tighter than ever before. Even worse is Michael’s sudden fear that he’s slowly losing the fierce desire for torture that had given him the will to soldier through the previous resets. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—believe that he was getting soft, but something is definitely wrong._

 

_§§§_

Michael and Janet walk toward a perfectly ordinary, generically comfortable beige house. Janet is taking big steps behind him, muttering something about how weird and dumb legs are when you have to use them to walk from one place to another. Michael doesn’t disagree with her (all human body parts are dumb, as far as he’s concerned), but his mind is on other matters.

Michael rings the doorbell and waits. In a moment, a woman that he presumes to be Mindy St. Claire opens the door. She regards him blankly, spies Janet, and immediately groans.

“Good God. Another one of you. Can't you all just leave me alone?” Mindy is rolling her eyes. 

Michael clears his throat.“I’m . . .”

“I figured it out. I'm not an idiot. You’ve got to be Michael himself.” Mindy is looking him over, as one would look over a curious alien specimen.“I don’t suppose you have any cocaine with you, do you?”

Michael shakes his head, wondering about the request. “Can we come in?”

Mindy shrugs, pointing inside with her chin.Michael goes in alone, since Janet is apparently engrossed in goose-stepping around the neatly manicured yard.

Mindy sits down on her chair, thumbing through a five-year-old issue of _Readers Digest_. Michael settles on the couch, looks at her, and doesn’t really know how to begin.

Mindy finally glances up. “You’ve got to have a reason for coming here; eternal beings don’t pop up in the Medium Place every day. There’s something about not having powers that tends to give them the creeps.”

Michael clears his throat. “It’s about Eleanor. I’ve been . . . it’s getting complicated.”

Mindy rolls her eyes again. “Buddy, I’m not your therapist. You came all the way here to talk about _Eleanor_?What’s wrong? She’s hot. A little young for you, maybe, but you're already a demon. Who cares about morals?”

Michael winces. “Sex isn’t something that we can actually _do_. I don’t even understand what humans find so enjoy about smushing interlocking body parts together. No, it’s more like . . . I’m finding myself wanting to spend time with Eleanor, thinking things that she says are funny, admiring some of the things she does. It’s making it hard for me to concentrate on torturing her. I thought, as a former human, that you might have some advice for me. How can I stop all this?” Michael gets the speech out all in a rush, relieved to finally say it to someone.

Mindy is looking at him and shaking her head. “You mean . . . Eleanor’s becoming your friend. It’s not as mind-blowing as you’re making it out to be.You have things in common; you both kind of suck.”

Michael stares at her. “I’m an eternal being.We don’t have . . . friends. And we certainly don’t have friends who are human. It has to be something else.”

Mindy yawns. “I doubt it. And so what if you _are_ friends? What’s the big deal? I had a friend once, and it was fine.I wouldn’t mind having another someday.” Mindy suddenly looks a little wistful.

Uncomfortably, Michael acknowledges the possibility that Mindy could be right. Those peculiar feelings that assault him when he’s around Eleanor might actually be . . . “But what can I do about it? I’m supposed to be torturing her. Thinking of her as a friend would make that . . . harder.”

“You’re the one who wanted to get all close up and personal with people, and this is part of it. Anyway, whatever your current plan is can’t be working, because all of you show up at my doorstep regularly. Maybe you should think about something different, something that would let you put some of those Eleanor feelings to good use.” Mindy turns back to her magazine, indicating that she’s done giving Michael advice.

Michael takes that as his cue to leave; he’s gotten enough of what he came for, anyway. He starts to go, and then turns back. “Do you mean—team up with her, with them?So we all get something out of it?”

Mindy shrugs, and Michael takes that as agreement.It’s certainly something to think about.

 

§§§

The phone rings after Michael leaves.Mindy sighs. It wouldn't be unusual for a phone to ring, except for the fact that, until this moment, she hasn’t had a phone at all.

“Hello?”

“Is it finished?” The voice at the other end is calm, measured, and exactly what Mindy would expect to hear, given the circumstances.

“I hinted that he should team up with Eleanor, just the way you asked me to.I trust the cocaine will be here soon?” Mindy eyes water at the thought of that cocaine.Anything to inject some excitement into her beige existence.

“As promised.” The voice on the phone is smooth as silk. Mindy wonders briefly just who the hell it is with whom she's made this bargain, and then she decides she doesn't actually care. Cocaine is cocaine, after all. She hesitates, not sure she’s curious enough to ask a question, and then decides to go for it.

“So why exactly are you doing this?What’s so important about Eleanor and Michael?”

“I can’t tell you that. I can only tell you that their friendship is one of the key relationships to set our plan in motion.All will be revealed in time.” A click, and the voice is suddenly gone.

Mindy shakes her head at that, envisioning many more visits from the people in Michael’s orbit.But strangely, the thought doesn’t make her as miserable as it probably should.Seeing how this story ends might actually be interesting.Then again, anything is interesting compared to _Readers Digest_.

 

§§§

The man in the Room hangs up the phone and turns to the others. “It’s done.”

The others in the Room murmur at this announcement. “Are we sure about this?” one of them asks. “We might lose the audience if we keep shifting things around. This is risky.”

The man looks at her. “I know what I’m doing. A Michael/Eleanor alliance is critical. And people like them together. _We_ like them together.”

“Sure we do, but eventually, we’re going to seem like a one-trick pony. These characters keep running away from us; how do we know that won't happen again? Eleanor is especially slippery; she's nothing like we thought she was going to be. We need to settle into a real arc, or people will start to think we don’t have a plan.” The woman looks worried, and the man—whose name is also Michael—appreciates how much she cares.

“But we know that we _do_ have a plan, and we have to stick to it. It’s going to be great.” This Michael, unlike the eternal being he created, is confident.

“I hope so.” The woman is not entirely reassured.

Michael smiles, and then looks at the rest of the Room.“Now, let’s start breaking the rest of it.I think we should . . .”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this Yuletide treat, cricket_aria! I also love Michael and Eleanor, and I had a lot of fun writing it. Thanks for the prompt!


End file.
